


Heaven Beneath Our Feet

by crazyground



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-26
Updated: 2013-02-26
Packaged: 2017-12-03 16:51:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/700524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazyground/pseuds/crazyground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heaven!AU. Changmin dies and finds his pie in the sky. He gets to eat it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven Beneath Our Feet

Heaven's layout is caught somewhere between Disneyland and a badly planned shopping mall. Sliced like pie, each piece has its own filling and super special purpose, for the running of the afterlife.

There is a gate, of course there is a gate, gold and magnificent, at which souls arrive. They are greeted and then sorted according to their age - not their physical ages because all that's been left behind already, but the age of their souls and how close they are to reincarnation. Being good in life is no longer enough for a fully funded stay in Heaven anymore; there is far too many humans and not enough happiness these days. Heaven’s residents are at risk of dropping alarmingly in numbers so a little community service is involved.

There are exceptions of course, and everything is technically left to free willed decisions. Up here, the murdered and the self-sacrifices don’t stay long because the shock and horror of their sudden brutal death is such an impression that the mangled husks of what were once their bodies are the form they assume in the afterlife. It’s not exactly pleasant to walk around with gaping holes and blood everywhere, Heaven or not, so they are allowed to pass on first. The rest are gently, efficiently persuaded to take up day jobs. It’s a simple business; work a while and spread joy down on Earth – so people are less likely to end up down under where their souls are tortured and resentment builds until it is reincarnated into evil, an essentially endless cycle – and you will be rewarded for your efforts. In Heaven, you get reborn to a life befitting of your efforts.

Changmin isn’t one of those workers in that his stepfather had drowned him when he’d helped his sisters escape their abusive house and so he is constantly dripping or at least, damp, a sad enough state that he is offered a faster Moving On. He doesn’t take it, however, and works because he’s not quite ready to give up his existence yet.

It’s a lousy reason, one of cowardice and distrust of the promised New Beginning but Changmin is really good at whatever he is tasked with. As a clerk sorting out lives his paperwork is always impeccable (and dry with the aid of rubber gloves), as Grim Reaper his souls are neatly and punctually collected, and as a Greeter his smile is, ah, angelic. And despite climbing up the rank so swiftly, Changmin stays in his standardised one room apartment, saving Heaven's resources. It's a good arrangement for all parties involved so Heaven’s taken to shuttling him around to which ever department short on manpower instead. This means having to relearn new protocol every decade or so but Changmin doesn’t mind. He’s waiting for his sisters to turn up after all. Maybe then can he truly let go.

* * *

Somewhere in his twentieth year in Heaven, he is transferred to the Cupids' department.

"Are you fucking kidding me," he says, staring up at the building. It is pink, no, it is _fuchsia_.

It isn't surprising because he's worked in a division of the weather angels in the neighbouring wedge of Heaven (an awesome job, pity he'd had to give it up after a few untimely, geographically unreasonable blizzards) and all he could see then was also varying shades of pink. He'd always assumed it was some kind of statement and inside it'd be normal and rational and not retina searing. What is surprising is how repulsed he is by the colour and that everything inside really and truly is pink.

"The colour of Love," his welcoming committee, Junsu, tells him. The man leans into his cubicle and laughs at his snort of disbelief. "No, really. the colour of Love, like, the red of Passion and white of Innocence mixed together! What's love without a bit of wide-eyed wonder?"

So Changmin widens his eyes, slants his eyebrows in what he hopes is adoration and says, "still a fucking eyesore though."

The sound of Junsu's laughter echoes through his cubicle. It sounds like a dolphin; Changmin tells him so and sets him off again.

And just like that Junsu goes from his boss to his partner. Paperwork is sloughed off to his secretary Hyukjae who mutters darkly under his breath about lousy best friends and even lousier superiors. Junsu's been around at least twenty years before Changmin even though that can't be seen in the sloppy and unorganised techniques he displays. Somehow, he gets his job done anyway, has one of the best track records in fact, so Changmin grudgingly gives him respect, calls him hyung and sometimes even means it.

They make a good team, water themed as their co-workers like to tease them for, Changmin dripping everywhere and Junsu with his dolphin like laugh. The man suits his job, all bright smiles and optimism for even the toughest of cases. Even the pair of fluffy white wings suit him, and he is constantly the shining image of Cupid with his cherub cheeks and wide smile, while Changmin's wings are often stuffed into a desk drawer, a regulation he never bothers with. However, there is something desperate and dark in his eyes that Changmin occasionally catches glimpse of. The first time he saw it was during this conversation:

"So maybe you'll help him move on and find happiness again with someone," Changmin had said, about the lover Junsu had left behind after his freak car accident. Junsu's shirts always dip oddly as though there are a few ribs missing to give them proper shape. Changmin tried not to look and pushed his wet fringe out of his eyes.

And when he'd turned back, Junsu was staring at him, shell shocked, and then at his feet. "That would be… nice," he'd said with effort. "I want him to be happy. I want him to be happy."

The more Changmin learns about this Yoochun person, the more he doubts that the man – addicted to sex and nicotine and alcohol and sad sad love songs – would live past fifty, and after that, if he'd even get into Heaven. Junsu thins his lips and asks about his sisters instead. that shuts him right up.

In his fifth year as a cupid, Junsu breaks the law and hacks into the system, searching for Yoochun. It's a simple task because Love is one of those departments that have every is and was and will be mortal in its system, and Heaven doesn't have any firewalls, trusting in its angels. It's also a suicidal task because Heaven does not take kindly to broken rules and Junsu is banished.

When the news breaks, it spreads like wildfire through the ranks even though Changmin's pretty sure gossip is not a virtue. This is unfortunate because Changmin is turned to for answers, Junsu's partner, _you must have known, what on earth was he thinking_? Changmin has no answers to that, Changmin doesn't even know the answers that Junsu found because Junsu is sent straight to purgatory, head low and hands cuffed. Junsu's last request is to see Hyukjae not him, so Changmin ignores the bitter taste in his mouth and resigns himself to never knowing.

A demon comes to collect him on a dreary drizzling day even though there should not be such a thing in perpetually perfect weathered Heaven. He leads Junsu away with a childlike glee, swinging their interlinked hands between them. Junsu is hard to look at because he smiles back in an entirely defeated manner, and the demon - he looks exactly like an angel but with dark wings gleaming ethereal, jet black hair and jet black eyes on a face that is more unreal in its beauty than Changmin has ever seen in Heaven. Only when his red lips part to introduce himself, does Changmin understand the difference between them; it is in the way Jaejoong's voice lilts with temptation and seduction and filth so thick it sends shivers down his spine.

Whatever he had found in the systems, Junsu goes without fuss, a smile on his lips and whispered hopes of reunion as he passes Changmin by.

Changmin never sees him again.

* * *

Because of that Incident, the cupids' department goes through reorganisation of its system and its staff. It's a procedure carried out with decreasing frequency because nowadays not many believe in love enough to cause trouble but Junsu of course has to be special. Changmin tries not to think about him too much because it brings an ache to his un-beating heart so he busies himself with clearance tests instead, to keep his job here and rid of this nagging feeling that threads are dangling loose.

People are brought in and people are brought out; Changmin stays exactly where he is. It makes perfect sense if you considers his near perfect performance record, but if you listen to the rumours that Heaven is putting only the unloved or the inexperienced in love so that they are not bitter and pushed over the edge by the love they build and never had, never can have – well, it still makes perfect sense. Changmin died at fifteen after all, and he doesn't think platonic familial love quite makes the cut, no matter how strong his had been for his sisters, and what he'd ultimately done for its sake.

His new partner is a grumpy young man named Kyuhyun, demoted for treating God's Ineffable Plan like a video game to beat. Between one grumpy young man to another, they get along smashingly. Changmin always has something on the tip of his alarmingly sharp tongue to add when he slashes through idiotic lovers' quarrels with Understanding and Kyuhyun keeps up snarky commentary through the explicit make up sessions which is always welcome because sex has become increasingly… exotic these days. Kyuhyun died early too, at sixteen in an unfortunate car accident that had fortunately been to sudden to make a lasting impression on Kyuhyun's form, so they both hide between their hands and grumble until it goes away.

They work really well together, Changmin might even consider him the best partner yet if he were the type to compare notes - but he isn't and any sort of pen to paper about his previous partner generally ends up crushed and binned, so Changmin settles with calling them best friends instead. It's a kindred spirit sort of thing, not just their similar taste in snark or that neither of them ever touches their Cupids' wings; Kyuhyun's got an older sister down in earth too. Off the record they help to keep an eye out for familiar names that might flit through their department looking for Love.

Time is a funny thing in Heaven so even though Changmin doesn't feel as though he's grown any closer to sixteen, his body grows enough to be considered early twenties. Not because of any time passing, his appearance had aged because it had fitted better his job as a grim reaper. He's still wet, but his cheekbones are more prominent and he is even taller than he'd ever thought possible. Mental math: Changmin died when he was fifteen, which is about twenty years ago, so even though he is dead and isn't capable of any sort of growing up at all, Changmin is now technically thirty five and Seoyeon would be twenty nine and Jiyeon is twenty seven. They are at the age between young reckless love and love that's gone stale and sour, a comfortable in between so Changmin finds himself at the edge of his seat, eyes straining for any glimpse of their heartstrings threading through his systems.

For all his trouble, Kyuhyun is the one who catches it. With a startled cry, Changmin is yanked from his desk, head shoved so close to the screen that his nose is touching glass. He is just in time to see a bright flash of love, the lightest of pink that it is mostly a searing white, platonic but strong before the grey of grief seeps in. a line – a boy? young man, barely twenty – snaps loose and ends abruptly. Changmin makes a frantic noise at the back of his throat and yanks up a visual, gasping as he does so. There he is, the young man sprawled on the floor, blood pooling beneath chest. some sort of shop? Changmin squints and he can see the robber at the cash register, the injured man drawing his last breath – where the fuck is his sister?!

"She's here, I know she is." Kyuhyun points at a bright spot of light, pulsing sickly with fear.

They watch until the cops come, giving chase as the robber flees the scene of the crime. Shim Seoyeon's line is bright and thrumming, green with anxiety but alight nonetheless. The relief that floods him is so immense that Changmin has to sit down, forehead pressed to his knees as he leans against a wall. Kyuhyun comes to wrap an arm around his shoulder, and Changmin leans on him instead.

They don't speak for a long while after.

* * *

Two things happen after:

One: Kyuhyun quits his job and transfers to the most unlikely of jobs. With a shrug he tells Changmin _sorry man, but I've got no one else to look out for_. His sister is old by now, old enough that she's probably already gone through Love's system and old enough that Kyuhyun can convince himself with images of a long fruitful life. There has been a restlessness about Kyuhyun for days now, so Changmin must admit he isn't all that surprised. While he wants to work in Heaven a little while longer, he no longer sees the point of staying in a department he doesn't comprehend and is only giving him aches over something he has never had in the first place, not like that.

Two: a young man comes in to take his place, and Changmin would recognise his aura anywhere. He's freshly dead, Changmin can see it in the awe in his eyes even at the most mundane things like the clouds he stands on or the little turfs of feathers on each angel's back, and in the vibrant colours that still cling onto his outline in soft waves. The last time Changmin had seen such a shade of sunshine, it'd been a thin, strong line pulsating near his sister, never quite touching until the day she frays and gives Changmin a heart attack, and Yunho's had abruptly ended. This is the man his sister had known, Changmin thinks, this is a man that's known his sister, maybe both of them, had been with them when he could not, would _know_ –

"I'm Yunho," the man greets, dislodging Changmin from his thoughts. "You are - Changmin-shii?"

"… Just Changmin will do," he replies belatedly, muddled by things like destiny and fate echoing in his head. "I - I'm younger than you. you're - I'm _Shim_ Changmin."

"Oh?" Head tilted, Yunho stares at him questioningly. He doesn't get it, shit, Changmin needs to make him understand but his tongue has tied itself in knots.

"I – my sisters may have mentioned me, they didn’t mention you, they couldn’t but I saw, the robber, Seoyeon –"

And finally, Changmin can see comprehension dawning in Yunho's eyes. "Oh."

"Is she…?" Changmin swallows thickly, words caught in his throat. He points at the splotch of red staining Yunho's shirt, positioned just so on his torso that Changmin can imagine the knife sliding between his ribs and tearing into his lung. He might have drowned to death too, blood filling his lung, the other one unable to cope; Changmin chokes back a hysterical streak of laughter and is grateful when Yunho puts a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look up. His eyes are kind but Changmin can't seem to meet them so he stares at Yunho's mouth instead as the man begins to speak.

"She's fine, the Grim Reaper let me stay long enough to watch. She hid under the counter until the cops came, not a scratch on her."

"Oh." That's good, that's more than good, but what is this dissatisfaction gnawing at his heart? Changmin swallows thickly. "Is she… is she okay? Is she - is she happy?"

"She- yes, yes she is, well, she was and she will be. Jiyeon too. They both will." A light smile tugs at Yuhno's lips, too kind as his eyebrows slant sympathetically. "You're their brother? I've heard a lot about you, there's a picture of you on the fridge, on the mantle, you looked younger then – they know they owe everything to you, they love you, it's like – "

A rough sound cuts him off. The next is even more broken and once Changmin realises these noises are coming from himself, he is powerless to stop them. Yunho seems to know what to do more than he does, and a strong arm wraps around his shoulders, tugging until Changmin can press his forehead against Yunho's shoulder.

For the first time Changmin's grateful for his wetness as it goes from fresh-out-of-the-shower to caught-in-the-rain; there is a stinging behind his eyes but he can't feel the tears running down his face as they mix with the rivulets dripping down from his hair. Yunho is murmuring a litany of hey, _hey, it's okay, you did good_ and it drowns out the pathetic whining so Changmin clings on and doesn't let go.

* * *

After that lapse, Yunho goes back to cool and polite, perfectly professional if a bit cold at times. On the one hand, Changmin's glad that he's got a bit of distance to sort himself out and find the answers to his now-what? questions. On the other, he can also tell that his façade is an absolute lie, some sort of shitty cover up because for all of Yunho's cool city man impression, his eyes lights up when he weaves mortals together or nudges fairy tale romances along like he's spent all of his short life imagining such clichés and now knows exactly what sort of cheesiness would go over well.

Yunho is a natural at his job, infinitely better than Changmin is despite his experience. At the right moments he is able to neatly knot lives together where Changmin would have tangled them together instead, and when he says things like, _no, not Understanding, they already have that so give them Trust_ , or _hey, just step back a bit and let them work it out_ , he's usual on the dot.

On their lunch breaks they would eat together and Yunho would cautiously offer Changmin a story or two from his past life that is also from his sisters' lives. It's complicated: Changmin wants to know how his precious younger sisters are doing but things like how Yunho had been Seoyeon's favourite student, or how Jiyeon had taken such a liking to the boy that she would bake for him every time he came over for tuition - he doesn't need now want to know. To his credit, Yunho doesn't make it obvious, just slips in the details when it's crucial to the telling of how Seoyeon's doing at work or how Jiyeon's kindness is so far unsurpassed, but Changmin picks them out with too much ease.

In a detached sort of manner, as though Changmin is merely an observer of his own (after)life, things seem to go well.

Except it doesn't.

"A _romantic_." Changmin drawls, the word rolls off his tongue in an unpleasant curl, a sharp knot in his chest that has been growing ever since they'd been partnered together. This definitely isn't the first time he's pushed them into enmity. "Who would've known, looking at you."

At his tone, Yunho looks up sharply, eyebrows hitched in wariness. The boy is implicit in his actions, quiet and maybe a touch bitter, Yunho almost doesn't want to ask. "And just what do I look like?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing bad of course." Long has Changmin perfected the art of implicit insults, but this time he canno find his restraint. "Perfect Jung Yunho, new star of the department, just fucking perfect."

"Yah, watch that mouth of yours," Yunho snaps as his back straightens, intimidating. This isn't the first time Changmin has cast aspersions on his person, but it is the first that he's done it openly. There is weeks worth of snide remarks and scornful sidelong glances pressing down on Yunho's temper, skirting the along the edge.

"Right, of course, _hyung_." The corners of Changmin's mouth lifts, a mockery, venom bleeding freely.

"Rude little –" Yunho catches himself before he swears, but the anger still simmers and what he says next is much worse: "If you sisters knew how you turned out –"

At once Yunho knows he's crossed the line; Changmin recoils as though he's been hit and then snaps. His expression twists into something raw and furious. "Fuck you, _fuck you_ ," he hisses, "what the hell would you know, I died at fifteen, I never got to –"

"Changmin, don't…" Half-hearted attempt, Yunho grabs him by the wrist but Changmin is already too far gone.

"It's not fair, why the hell does some stranger get to know my family, when I was the one who risked everything for them? When I was the one to fucking die for them?" At the last syllable, Changmin's voice cracks, brittle and vulnerable.

With a pained noise, Yunho grabs his wrist and jerks him forward. Changmin tumbles roughly into his arms, too breathless to resist, and at once he is being pressed up against a strong chest, forehead pressed to his shoulder. The first sob comes out as a strangled gasp, the second is louder and the rest blur into each other until Changmin's thin frame is wrecked with convulsions. Yunho takes it all in stride, tugging until Changmin is tucked under his chin, one hand rubbing soothing circles into his back.

"There there, good boy," he murmurs, "let it all out."

This is the second time he's broken in front of this man, when he hadn't ever with anyone else. His skin burns with humiliation. "Don't you pity me, Jung Yunho, don't you dare."

"I won't," Yunho promises, and pretends the damp seeping into the collar of his shirt is Changmin's death-induced wetness and nothing else.

* * *

It's a slow transition, Heaven's half-assed version of time to blame again, but a smooth one nonetheless. The most obvious change is that over the first year, Changmin's work station literally brightens from a mathematical pink of exactly equal amounts of red and white, to a happy, obnoxious bubble gum. With Yunho's natural instinct, their efficiency in match making doubles. At work, everything goes well, for real this time.

Then there are the subtler shifts: when Yunho leans against his shoulder during overtime, Changmin doesn't shove him away. Yunho starts an aimless conversation because the man is lively like that, and Changmin finds himself debating inanities for hours on end. Outside the department, Yunho follows Changmin to all his favorite eateries even though some are located in the outskirts. And that one memorable time when Yunho had persuaded Changmin into trying on the wings – while Yunho had called him cute, Changmin eventually convinced him that they just looked weird on people as tall as them. Changmin's never been the most social of creatures so the only other explanation is that Yunho is remarkable attuned to Changmin's attitude, easing himself comfortably into Changmin's personal space and, more astonishingly, not having the younger man push him away. For all his hate of clichés, Changmin finds that they fit together like matching puzzle pieces, in all ways different but of the same picture.

Changmin doesn't even notice when the last vestiges of Yunho's aura fades, marking him a long term member of Heaven, because the man seems to illuminate everything around him. It isn't until Yunho taps him awake from his nap that Changmin realises he is squinting not because of any physical radiance but because of the wide grin on his face. With a groan he rubs the sleepiness from his eyes and convinces himself that he'd been dreaming.

"The perfect Shim Changmin, caught slacking on the job," Yunho announces gleefully, "and while his partner was hard at work too. Does this mean I finally get to act like a hyung?"

Changmin stares at the admonishing finger waggling in his face then up at Yunho's grin, and promptly ignores both for the stack of papers in his hands. "Whatever you say, _hyung_."

Laughing, Yunho holds them out of reach.

"Oh no you don't," he says, "you still have View hours to fill, Changmin-ah."

"But, hyung!" Does pouting work? Is Changmin above pouting?

"But, Changmin!" No, and no it seems. Yunho pouts right back at him and – and ugh, argh, Changmin can feel the sheer cuteness of it all chipping away his resolve. Damn it.

Changmin hates this part of his job but he has to admit, the View's a thing of wonder, especially in this department. While the whole of Heaven's working sector has them, none have quite as many special functions as Love's. The Grim Reapers' contraption is a close second, lights of all sorts of shapes and sizes and colours blinking for each and every life about to be snuffed out, a convenient little printer attached to each one churning out small white receipts with the co-ordinates of each newly passed, but it still pales in comparison. Here the machines have all those features and more, each light blinks to a unique rhythm, spins thin little rivulets of red or white or anything in between.

Changmin's job is to select pairs of loosely strung spots and pull them upon the big screen – sometimes a porthole with metal furbishing, a basin, a fancy hologram screen – to quite literally spread some love. He's never gotten good at it after all this while so instead of Changmin's usual strict efficiency, it's more of a hit and miss thing. This means watching for as short as minutes as long as hours as awkward, inefficient humans dance around each other and more often than not, completely elude the happy ending that Changmin flings at them, all impatient yelling and rude hand gestures. It's irritating and infuriating and a complete waste of his time on most days. He doesn't know whether that is better than when they do get together in with a sore lack of finesse, all awkward and _naked_ and –

"Oh, oh eww." Changmin jerks his head back and makes a horrified expression at the View. "That was disgusting, why would people do such a, a – _eww_."

Yunho follows him out with a laugh. "You really are younger than me," he declares after a close scrutiny of Changmin's reddened face that has him squirming. Yunho laughs again and reaches over to ruffle his hair. "Cute dongsaeng," he coos, and laughs as Changmin tries to bite his hand off.

Despite Changmin's adamant insistence that he does not want to know, Yunho takes it upon himself to teach him about this Love business, like he knows better despite having worked in the department years fewer than Changmin. It reminds Changmin of the running commentary Kyuhyun used to keep, splayed out on his stomach and poking half-heartedly at the glass, except Kyuhyun doesn't get these ridiculous looks on his face, sometimes wistful and sometimes a smile so brilliant that Changmin has to drop his gaze back to earth before he does something stupid like smile back.

At one point – mere days after Heechul passes Yunho a stack of trashy manhwa, cackling all the while – the pink turns so loud and eye searing that Changmin's least favourite time of the day becomes his favourite, if only because of the relief it lends his eyes. When he turns to the little porthole in the clouds and squints, the walls and the garishness falls away until all he can see are billions of flickering lights on a patchwork earth, soothing in its greens and blues.

"It must be nice," Changmin says one day, splayed out on his back and pushing little colour compatible lights together. Some of them bounce back and drift off, some circle each other for a few moments before settling neatly together. With a careful finger, Changmin brushes them off with a thin layer of Patience, because they are too vibrant to be anything but young and foolish. "This love thing."

Yunho looks at him, a curious expression flitting across his features. Earth's projection is a translucent film of light between them, above Changmin's head and below Yunho who's sitting with his back against the wall.

"It's like sunshine," he says after consideration. Lips pressed together in thought, Yunho rakes a hand through his hair, and then through Changmin's what that doesn't particularly inspire him. Changmin makes a face and headbutts his hand lightly but otherwise lets him shift his fingers through his hair, soft and only slightly damp, as though it's just been towelled dry. Yunho's lips quirk up until his cheeks dimple. "Sunshine that makes everything seem different, and sometimes it's too dim, sometimes it's too glaring but mostly, it makes you feel really warm."

Oh, that _does_ sound nice. Changmin closes his eyes. "You looked like sunshine," he says without meaning to. "When you first came, your aura, uhm." Abruptly, he chokes down the rest of his words and flushes, unsure.

When he opens his eyes, Yunho is watching him again; Changmin still can't tell what he's thinking but the weight of his gaze makes him flop over onto his side to stare at Yunho's knees instead. Was that a confession? Changmin doesn’t know what confessions feel like. It might possibly have been a confession. Uh oh. "What, I have no idea what you're talking about," Changmin blurts out, a disclaimer, "you're such a sap, hyung."

"Do I still look like sunshine?" Yunho wonders.

The answer is at the tip of his tongue, Changmin knows it without even turning round to check, but he swallows it and thinks he's not quite ready to experience rejection yet. When Yunho doesn't move his hand from Changmin's hair, both of them don't say a word.

* * *

A second discovery Yunho brings about on Changmin's perpetual state of wet: the more upset he is, the more he drips. This little thing that maybe is maybe isn't between him and Yunho gnaws at his stomach; It's the first time in a long while he's felt physical pain and it resembles indigestion, like a lump not quite sitting right inside of him. Changmin becomes more sad and grumpy than he normal is and it exudes out of him, sticking his clothes to his skin and pooling in puddles at his feet. Three reports are lost when he thinks a little too hard about Yunho's mouth and the tiny mark about his upper lip, and the water suddenly welling up on his palms splashes into the computer system and short circuits it.

Even though the floor of their office is now constantly slippery and a health hazard at least half the time, despite that he himself is already inanely clumsy, Yunho takes it all in stride. He takes over the paperwork, keeps a stack of towels above his desk and is unfailingly nice to Changmin no matter how soggy and pissed off he gets. In turn, it pisses Changmin off even more. If this thing is between the both of them, why is Changmin the only one flustered and annoyed? He is snappy and almost _blatantly_ impolite to his hyung, which makes him feel like a dickhead, and the stress builds and builds until he begins to split at the seams.

"Don't touch me!" Changmin hisses, glaring as he shrugs Yunho's hand off his shoulder roughly. The man's just saved him from slipping on his own fucking puddles, but Changmin feels no gratitude, only fuel to his furore. "This is all your fault!"

"I – what? How is this my fault?"

`"Nothing, it's nothing, just… go sit over there." Changmin points to the far of the cubicle and offers no further explanation until Yunho sighs and follows. There's that dickhead feeling again; Changmin sulks in his own corner and resolutely doesn't look at the droop of Yunho's shoulders. It's just a phase, he thinks, it'll get better soon.

As a matter of fact, it gets worse. At any one moment, should Changmin choose to kick out, he'd send water splashing everywhere, small splashes or big tidal wave splashes depending on his mood and how long he's been still enough for water to collect at his feet. This is unfortunate because the amount of fidgeting Changmin does is congruent to how upset he is, and the more water that soaks through his trouser legs, the more pissed off he gets. It's a never ending cycle, looping on and on until Changmin threatens to flood the whole department. They are only saved when Heechul barges in shrieking and throws him out of Love's pie slice of Heaven all together.

This is how Changmin finds himself moping in a Chinese restaurant, Kyuhyun at his side and laughing at his predicament. Before he can defend his honour however, the tall Chinese man behind the counter does it for him.

"Are you being mean to your friends again?" he cries, the plate in his hand changing trajectory mid-air to land in front of Changmin instead. "No dumplings for you! you should know better, Kuixian!"

Even though Changmin's pretty sure there is no one named Kuixian here, lunch is over and the shop is empty save the three of them, Kyuhyun sighs as though greatly aggrieved and grumbles as his dumplings disappear into the bottomless pit that is Changmin's stomach.

"Zhou Mi," he says, pained, "you don’t understand; if our positions were reversed, he'd be mocking me too."

"I would never!" Changmin clutches at his chest, clearly wounded by the unwarranted stab to his character. the other hand pushes the empty plate towards Zhou Mi. He holds back a grin as Zhou Mi coos and takes it to be refilled. Kyuhyun narrows his eyes at the display.

"You are not my favourite anymore," Kyuhyun announces. "I am switching loyalties to Geng's restaurant and you are never going to see me again.

"Nonsense! I am your favourite _everything_ , Kuixian."

"… Maybe."

Changmin's never seen such an expression on Kyuhyun's face before. He'd identify it as exasperated adoration if he weren't so busy laughing. Kyuhyun rounds on him, first glaring before a cheeky grin works its way out.

"But enough about me, what's troubling you, dear Changminnie?" Kyuhyun flutters his eyelashes dramatically at him. Changmin would laugh again if it hadn't looked so utterly devious.

"Yes," Zhou Mi pipes up, "Kyuhyun's shoulder angel now! he's good at giving advice!"

"Oh yeah, how's that shoulder angel thing working out?" With a sceptical cock of his eyebrow, Changmin tries to steer the conversation away and gets an eye roll for his efforts.

"My mortal plays StarCraft, it's a pretty good job," he answers, raising a hand to flick Changmin square between the eyes. "Now stop stalling. What's up?"

"I – " Changmin pauses, unable to continue for lack of proper words. Scrunching up his face, he tries again. "So there's this guy –"

"Oh~" Kyuhyun coughs. Zhou Mi, halfway to the kitchen to give them privacy, lights up and sidles sneakily back. Well, if Kyuhyun trusts him then Changmin doesn't mind him staying but –

"Shut up, stop looking at me like that!" Hurriedly, Changmin rakes his hair over his ears because he can feel them heating up. "No, it's the guy from that robbery, Yunho-hyung, you met him the other day, remember?"

Abruptly, the smile slides off Kyuhyun's face, replaced by seriousness. Changmin can see that dramatic first impression flash across his eyes. "Yes, definitely, what about him?"

And so the entire story comes pouring out, from the beginning with Junsu's laughter and Junsu's heartache, to the sisters he'd never got to see grow up and then – Yunho who is like sunshine, Yunho who drenches him like rain, Yunho who puts that odd thudding in his chest, leaving him grumpy and droopy and _confused_. With help of Kyuhyun's prodding and Zhou Mi's gentle encouragement, Changmin finishes stumbling through his explanation. A thoughtful silence falls over the shop.

"That sounds familiar," Kyuhyun says.

Zhou Mi chuckles, fond. "Oh Kuixian, that's because when we first met –"

"And by familiar I mean not familiar at all," Kyuhyun quickly amends, swatting away the hand at his cheek.

"You guys are not being useful," Changmin gripes. If he's already embarrassed himself by saying all those things, he'd better get some kind of advice out of it. "Hurry up and be useful!"

"Do you really not know what's going on?" Kyuhyun asks, "after all that time we'd spent working there?"

"You weren't any better a while back," Zhou Mi reminds him.

"Yeah, but I'm better now, so I'm better than him now." Kyuhyun's smug look dissolves into one of contemplation. "Huh, maybe we're not the ones who should teach him."

"What? Teach me what?"

"What do you think?" Kyuhyun scoffs at him and Changmin sorely misses the time when they were both working and being uselessly young together. It seems Kyuhyun has grown up without him. "Just tell him, you idiot."

Changmin has a sneaking suspicion he knows where this conversation is going. He doesn't like it. "Tell who?"

"Yunho-shii, duh."

Upon Changmin's grimace, Zhou Mi adds, "you did say it was a thing between you and Yunho-shii, so maybe you should talk to him about it."

"But what if it's only a thing for me, and not for him?" This right here is the scariest bit, Changmin thinks, and if Yunho doesn't, Changmin is going to sound really stupid. And have his heart crushed, that too.

"Well it doesn't sound like it's one sided." Zhou Mi taps a finger against his lips, appraising, before he pinches Changmin's cheek and coos. "And you're so cute, who wouldn't like you?"

"But. But I _don't want to_." Changmin sulks, not caring the least that he sounds like a petulant child. "It's not like he _needs_ to know."

"Then you don't need to eat this either," Before Zhou Mi even touches his bowl of noodles, Changmin is making protesting noises and grabby hands at it; Zhou Mi beams, his point that Changmin isn't clear of, proven. "See, just because you're dead doesn't mean you're not allowed to eat. Even if you've died, it's still okay to live, and be happy while doing so."

As soon as the bowl is back in front of him, Changmin slurps up a giant mouthful of noodles. He chews slowly, rolling Zhou Mi's words in his head. Live? Be happy? Yunho... makes his un-beating heart clench harder than anything else. There are no words for the heartache Changmin feels every time Yunho rushes into the office, late, because it isn't even an ache, more of a heavy, light sort of bubbling that fills him from his toes to his fingertips and sometimes he's happy, sometimes he's wet, it just _doesn't make sense_.

"Your ears are red," Kyuhyun points out helpfully. Changmin attempts to glare at him but it comes out more bewildered and – yup, his face is still flushed.

"So you're telling me I should..."

"Tell him," both reply at once.

Changmin blanches. "Alternative, I could also –"

"Tell. Him."

"But –"

" _Tell him_!"

Faced with not one but two stern glares, what choice does Changmin have but to acquiescent? "Fine," he mutters, throwing his hands up in defeat, "fine, I'll do it." He's only mildly insulted when they cheer and high five each other, because the pride in their matching grins is directed at him.

"As soon as you're done eating," Zhou Mi insists, "once you get back."

"Right, right."

Kyuhyun smiles at him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. His voice is warm when he says, "you deserve this, Changmin-ah, don't give up so easily. I believe in you."

"… If you say so," Changmin replies, sinking into the warm embrace. He hopes Kyuhyun is right.

* * *

Yunho is exactly as he left him, at his desk with his chair swivelled to face the door. His expression is the same too, stunned surprise etched into his features.

"Changmin ah -" the boy in question braces himself for indignant anger, but it never comes. Instead, Yunho turns to rummage under his desk, his voice muffled. "I was just about to look for you."

A towel secured, Yunho walks over and dumps it on his head. With gentle hands he starts to rub at Changmin's hair, pushing soft locks away from his cheeks before patting them dry. It is kind and careful and catches in Changmin's throat. When he dares a glance up, Yunho has this odd look of intense concentration, tongue peeking out at the corner of his lips. The grin that splits his face strains against his cheeks and when Changmin does nothing to resist, a giggle spills out. Yunho looks down at him in surprise, tilting his head up when Changmin – unable to stop his grin – sparkles sheepishly at his shoes instead.

Yunho arches an eyebrow, bemused. "Hey."

"Hi," Changmin says to Yunho's hair. Is the time now? Is the time right? Changmin figured he'd be to shy to say anything but now the need to say everything is clawing up his throat, but where to begin?

"Hey, look at me." Yunho squishes Changmin's cheeks with warm palms until he huffs and gives in, looking up from under long lashes. Now that he's got Changmin's attention, however, he doesn't quite know what to say. "How are you… feeling?"

Another giggle escapes, and now Yunho's face is coloured to match Changmin's. "What? How am I _feeling_? What sort of question is that?" he demands, and is infinitely pleased that Yunho starts to squirm. See, this is how it works, shared discomfort. The knowledge that their thing isn't only affecting Changmin gives him confidence, urging him to move, to do something.

"Nothing, you're just sort of… glowing. And before you were so grumpy and upset and –" Before Yunho can continue on, Changmin cuts him off with, well, his mouth.

 _Change my mind, I love clichés_ , Changmin thinks as he steals away Yunho's muffled squeak, and then every thought is lost because Yunho kisses back. Of the thousands of kisses Changmin had been forced to witness, this must be the best, even if Changmin has no idea what he's doing. Yunho does, and Yunho knows exactly what he wants when he licks along the seam of Changmin's lips until they part for him, coaxing out quiet moans and shy pleas. The towel slides to the floor as Yunho abandons it in favour of drawing Changmin to him, one hand cupping the nape of his neck and the other at the small of his back, pressing them impossibly closer.

When he pulls back, flushed and dizzy, Changmin doesn't notice Yunho watching him with wide eyes until hands wander down his sides, skirting the hem of his shirt. The first touch of skin on skin sends shivers down his spine, and Changmin suddenly discovers that he is, with the exception of his slick and swollen lips, completely dry for the first time ever. Huh.

"I'm feeling great actually," Changmin blurts out suddenly, a belated reply. He beams, unabashed. "Like sunshine."

"What a coincidence, so am I!" Yunho beams right back. Their eyes meet and Changmin feels like he's floating on air in a way that has nothing to do with the clouds beneath his feet. His smile tugs impossibly wide against his cheeks, eyes going endearingly mismatched, until he dissolves into a shaking fit of sniggers against Yunho's chest.

"Ah, no, I can't," Changmin declares, one hand fanning at his heated face, "too much sap."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you how." Yunho buries his laughter into Changmin's neck. "I'll teach you everything I know."


End file.
